


Charge it to the Mabel

by tendou



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, Implied abuse, Some Fluff, Time Travel, dipper is just along for the ride, memory recovery, one belonging to the elusive 'mabel travels back in time to confront filbrick' genre of fanfic, set after weirdmageddon before the twins return home, slight angst, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 10:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9486530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tendou/pseuds/tendou
Summary: “I was just thinking maybe we or just me should go back in time and find our great-grandpa and-”“What?! Mabel, that's crazy! Do you know how many paradoxes that would probably cause? DoIknow how many paradoxes that would probably cause?” He began frantically walking in a circle before suddenly halting. “Would it even cause any paradoxes?”Mabel overhears some things she shouldn't and decides to solve her problems through probably-paradox-free time travel.





	

**Author's Note:**

> "...and let the rain settle it."

Two days before their thirteenth birthday it was raining. A lovely, gentle, state-of-the-art summer shower and Mabel had wasted no time in throwing on her rain sweater (with a cloud on it, not remotely waterproof) and rushing outside. She had even gotten Dipper to join her for a game of running-around-in-the-rain-for-no-reason, at least until he slipped, twice, and started sneezing like crazy and had dejectedly dragged his mud-covered body back inside. She'd been dancing with Waddles too, although he had left along with Dipper. Not that Mabel was going to let that stop her from enjoying the downpour. She spent about two hours outside and when she finally had enough she felt more refreshed than she had in a long time. 

This unexpected late August rainfall had been exactly what she needed. Rain was a wonderful thing – all types of weather were, in their own way – and this summer hadn't had enough of it. There had been thunderstorms and even simpler showers like this one and, of course, Mabel had enjoyed the sunshine but rain, rain was amazing. Rain made rainbows. Rain made spontaneous outdoor dance parties and puddles to jump in. Rain was fun and she was glad she had gotten another proper one before summer ended. Especially considering that the most recent one before this had been actual blood rain and that just took some of the joy out of it.

It felt a little like the rain had finally washed away the dirt of Weirdmageddon and cleared up the constant fog in her brain. Helping Grunkle Stan be himself again was happy sometimes and it was complicated sometimes and sad sometimes but it was emotional at all times. And sure, Mabel loved doing it, she wanted to pour out her emotions and let Stan soak them all up like a gross old sponge so he'd never forget about his family and how much they loved him ever again but...it was exhausting. Sometimes.

Speaking of soaking, Mabel was just about drenched. Through her sweater, down to her very core and she was starting to feel cold despite the lingering summer heat so she hurried back inside the Shack. The sound of the television was the first thing to greet her and a quick glance into the living room revealed Dipper curled up on Stan's armchair, wrapped in a blanket with Waddles pressed against him. Mabel grinned as she stalked past the door, starting to make her way to the bathroom as quietly as she could. Dipper looked amazingly comfy and she would certainly be joining him later but for now she really just wanted a shower and some dry clothes. As she went, she got water everywhere but she didn't really mind. It wasn't the worst thing that had ever happened to the house. It wasn't even the worst thing that had happened to the house within the last week. Heck, the bathroom itself had only been fixed up yesterday. That had been an awkward time before then. There was just something uncomfortable about those daily family trips to take a shower at Soos' place. And Mabel felt about ready to burn the Outhouse of Mystery to the ground after all this.

To her surprise, however, the room turned out to be occupied. Through the open door, Mabel could see Grunkle Stan sitting on the rim of the bathtub, looking at the ground contemplatively. He didn't seem to have noticed her approach, deep in thought as he was, and Mabel couldn't help but wonder what he was doing. He didn't appear to be getting ready for anything. Then she heard Ford's voice.

“Stanley, you have to tell me what's wrong. _Please_.”

Mabel froze. Ford had that voice, that special tone she knew so well by now, and Stan had that look, and neither of them had noticed her and she shouldn't be here and she shouldn't be listening to this.

But she was here. And even though she knew she should, she wasn't leaving.

“Ugh, it's dumb. You shouldn't even worry about it, just go do whatever you came here for, wash your hands or, I don't know. You're dragging dirt all over,” said Stan back, trying to sound dismissive and unconcerned and like a grumpy-grump grunkle but he still wasn't looking up.

“I don't think it's dumb,” Ford replied calmly. Mabel thought that was a good answer. He had gotten better at that. She shouldn't be here, she shouldn't, shouldn't-

“You don't even know what it is. Besides, it's kind of a memory thing...” Stan shrugged.

Now Mabel could see Ford's hand reaching out from where he stood obscured by the bathroom door and covering Stan's own hand reassuringly. It really was caked in mud but it was steady and stopped the slight tremble that had been going through Stan's body.

“Then it's even more important that we talk it through. We're here to help you, Stan.”

There was a second of silence, two seconds, three. Finally, Stan heaved a sigh and, eyes still glued to the floor, he gave in.

“There's something I wanted to ask you.” Ford lifted his hand but then thought better of it and placed it back where it was. He must have nodded or something or maybe Stan hadn't needed any signal to keep going because Ford just stayed quiet and Stan continued talking.

“About dad.” Another sigh. His eyes briefly darted to the side before returning to focus on the tiles below his feet. “I mean, you said we're brothers, right? So you should know. Well, the thing is, I've been...getting memories. But they're confusing. Confusing as hell. I think I...” He shook his head and finally looked up.

Mabel only had a split second to take in the distraught expression on his face before jumping out of sight, pushing her back to the wall next to the door frame, breath hitched and rapid heartbeat reverberating loudly in her ears. And oh no, this made her a bad person, didn't it, now she was hiding and trying not to be seen eavesdropping- but she pushed those thoughts from her mind to focus on the conversation.

She didn't dare look back around the wall for fear of being spotted so she couldn't say for sure what Stan's face looked like but she had a pretty good idea regardless. She'd seen him upset far too many times these past few weeks. Hopefully, Ford would be able to solve whatever was going on so they could all go to the living room and eat glittery candy and watch TV with Dipper and Not Be Sad.

“Can you tell me what he was like? I just- I need an honest answer. And no sugarcoating.”

Ford hesitated for a moment before asking tentatively, “What did you remember so far?”

“...Bad stuff.”

Mabel felt her stomach clench. Nope, she really shouldn't be listening to this. Didn't even want to listen to it anymore, even for morbid curiosity. Grunkle Stan sounded composed if a little gruff and yet those two words wormed their way into her brain, exploding into questions. What was bad stuff? It couldn't have been that bad, right? Everyone was okay, right?

“But that's not the confusing part,” he added, pulling Mabel out of her thoughts. “What's confusing is, me, I'd think he was a bad guy. But Stan doesn't.”

“What do you mean?”

“I remember feelin'...grateful? Nah, that's not really the right word. I don't think I held any of it against him, though. And considerin' what I remember myself being like when I was younger I probably deserved a lot of that... So I guess he was a good guy? I don't get it.”

There was silence for at least half a minute. Then Ford or Stan, whoever it was, turned on the faucet for some reason. Mabel didn't really understand what was going on from the sounds alone so she hesitantly peered back around the corner to see Ford, messed up and muddied, aggressively scrubbing his hands. He looked way more pensive than the situation required. Stan raised an eyebrow at his brother.

“Stanford?”

He stopped moving, instead just letting the water run over his fingers as he closed his eyes. Mabel was almost positive he was doing this to avoid looking at Stan. It was actually kind of childish. In fact, it was something she herself used to do a lot when she was younger, fiddling with random things in her surroundings when things got too serious and emotional and generally feelsy.

“Ford, are you avoiding the question?”

At least Stan caught on, too. His brother still had the nerve to shake his head at that, quite the bold claim considering he was literally using a trick from Avoid Eye Contact Monthly magazine. He muttered something but it was drowned out by the rushing of the water.

“Poindexter.”

Nothing.

“Stanford Filbrick Pines!” Stan said sternly, although there was a hint of amusement in his voice. He didn't even seem to register the way Ford's hands gripped the edge of the sink at his words, too busy marveling at some new revelation. “Huh. That was his name, wasn't it? Filbrick? Hadn't actually remembered that until just now.”

Ford finally turned the faucet back off. He kept his gaze trained on the stray droplets of dirty water running down towards the drain but Mabel still ducked back behind the wall just in case.

“Stanley, our father- Well, I understand why you feel the way that you do. I have been able to come to terms with some things but perhaps you never got that chance. But you are good at- figuring people out? Memories or no memories, that doesn't change. Try to ignore how you remember feeling. What are your instincts telling you?”

“...That he was a bad guy.”

Ford exhaled heavily.

“I would say that he was. Yes.”

Mabel bit down on her bottom lip, hard. This wasn't- this wasn't- she didn't even know, she should just leave her grunkles to it, go to the kitchen and make her special hot chocolate, the kind that was 70% marshmallows and 20% sprinkles but instead she was just standing there.

“Okay. Well, I'm gonna have to take your word for that, Sixer, because I really don't know. Oof, Ford, you look like a kicked puppy! Lighten up a little, will ya?”

“If that would help you,” he replied morosely.

“That's the opposite of lighting up.”

“Sorry, sorry. So.” A sigh. “Do you want the short explanation? Or the long one?”

“Huh?”

“About dad.”

Mabel gulped. She didn't know what Grunkle Stan would choose. She didn't know what she wanted him to choose.

“We're gonna have to get this over with eventually anyway, might as well do it now.”

“All right. If it gets too much for you, we can take a break. We don't have to talk about everything right now.”

“Yeah, sure. You, uh, you too, I guess. If you get too uncomfortable or whatever...”

Mabel finally left about ten minutes into the long explanation. She didn't feel like watching TV anymore.

 

The night two days before their birthday it stopped raining. Dipper was sent upstairs around eleven because it was time for him to sleep and also because he was occupying Stan's chair. At first, he figured his great uncles would talk about memories some more, maybe watch some of those home videos, but a closer look at them quickly dispelled that idea. The looked so worn, Grunkle Stan barely said anything to Dipper at all and Ford had just sent him to the attic without much fanfare or long “good night”s. With the way they were both acting, he wouldn't be half surprised if they just spent the rest of the night watching Gravity Falls Public Access TV. The number one programming to kill brain cells fast and efficiently.

He scooped up Waddles but only managed to carry him a few feet before the strain on his arms became too much. How did Mabel even manage to do this. Instead, the pig just followed him up the stairs, oinking excitedly.

When Dipper entered the attic, however, he found himself confronted with yet another exhausted sad person. This time it was his sister, hair slightly damp from those hours outside in the rain and fittingly with a posture like soggy toast. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, back to the door, but her drooping shoulders and huddled form were enough to tell Dipper everything he needed to know. Oh no.

With a concerned frown he walked over to her and placed a hand comfortingly on her back. Mabel flinched at first before slowly relaxing again. She tilted her head back looking up toward the ceiling and Dipper leaned forward until he was able to look down into her face.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

Mabel snorted. “You look funny from this angle!”

Dipper rolled his eyes but he had to snort too, and Mabel made a disgusted sound and moved up to look at the wall again when his breath hit her face. So Dipper moved away a little too, just enough that he could sit on the edge of the bed behind her, back pressed to hers. They sat together like that, quietly, for a moment.

“Do you remember when Stan and Ford told us their mysterious backstory, down in the basement?” Mabel asked suddenly.

He nodded. She might have felt the motion of his head brushing against her hair but just to be sure he added a “yeah.”

“Grunkle Stan told us back then that because of that accident with Ford's machine his dad, he-” she had to pause briefly and Dipper felt a tremor going through her body. His first instinct was to turn around and comfort her and reassure her that whatever was making her so sad they could fix it, but she already kept talking.

“He threw him out! But Grunkle Stan was so- Grunkle Stan about it! He said he had a plan and that he'd do okay and he kept telling the story so even though I knew it was sad I didn't really think about it much.”

Dipper frowned at that. Stan did say that and yeah, like Mabel he kind of didn't think about it much more but now that she had mentioned it, it seemed. Wrong. Like really, really wrong. That didn't explain why Mabel was even bringing this up right now, though. He was about to ask when she turned around to face him, eyes big and red and puffy, and her voice cracked a little as she whispered, “I-I think he was a bad person.”

Without a second thought, Dipper leaned forward wrapping his arms around her in a big hug. She wasn't crying or perhaps she just wasn't crying anymore but her body still shook and Dipper was awkwardly patting her head (why was he so bad at this?) because he just couldn't stomach Mabel seeing Mabel like that. No one could. Not Mabel.

“He was our _great-grandfather_ ,” she choked out. Her next words were muffled by the fabric of Dipper's t-shirt. She lifted her head a little higher and said, yelled almost, “but I hate him!”

Dipper nearly flinched, dropping his hand from her back in shock. He wasn't- He didn't have a reply for her, he didn't know what to think. But Mabel didn't hate people just like that. Hearing those words from her, in that angry, desperate, hurt voice, it just felt wrong in every way. Mabel stayed optimistic about people, always. Something must have happened, that much was obvious.

All these thoughts were forgotten the next second, though, as he finally registered the weird feeling of something small and solid pressing into his stomach, and when he leaned back a little to see what had caused it his mouth dropped open.

“Why do you have that?!”

Mabel followed his gaze to the time machine clutched in her hands before shrugging and smiling sheepishly.

“This is- Is that an actual- Mabel, where did you get that?” Dipper jumped off the bed and began pacing around the attic. A time machine, they had a time machine. He'd tried building one before but he hadn't honestly expected to ever get another chance to use one. But now it was there! In Mabel's hands! In the attic of the Mystery Shack! Why? On the one hand, this was obviously super cool. But what with the stress of the past few days, he couldn't be quite as excited as he might have been otherwise. Not to mention, Time Baby was dead, so what did that change? Would anyone come fix the problem if they used the machine and accidentally caused a paradox? Would they be thrown in time jail for using it now? What did “now” even mean when they were talking about time travel?!

“Dipper, calm down,” Mabel said and Dipper actually stopped pacing to look at her.

“It's just, well, earlier I went outside again for a walk to...” she wiped her eyes and Dipper's frown deepened, “...to get my mind off things and I met some time traveler guy at the Bottomless Pit. He said he needed to investigate it for some kinda secret future reasons or something but that the energy from the” – air quotes – “'intradimensional wormhole contained within the geographical aberration'-” an eye roll, presumably directed at all the “nerd” words, “might hurt the time machine, or whatever. So he put his belt next to the pit and jumped in and I figured I could take his time-y tape-y thing while he's still falling.” She shrugged again.

“Mabel, we should bring this back before the guy notices!” He thought for a moment. “Maaaaybe after we show it to Grunkle Ford. No! We have to return it- Ah, but he'd probably want to see- no, nope, bringing it back right no-”

“Dipper, wait! I need this!” He stopped in his attempt to take the tape out of her hands to look at her, wide-eyed.

Mabel grinned in a strange, awkward-yet-smug manner.

“I may have come up with a plan and it may involve time travel.”

“What plan.”

“Psh, don't look at me like that, it's a great plan!”

Dipper did not stop looking at her Like That.

“I just think we or just me should go back in time and find our great-grandpa and-”

“What?! Mabel, that's crazy! Do you know how many paradoxes that would probably cause? Do _I_ know how many paradoxes that would probably cause?” He began frantically walking in a circle, hands clutching at his head, before suddenly halting. “Would it even cause any paradoxes?”

Mabel rolled her eyes at her brother as he grabbed one of his thinking pens and started chewing on it. “Dipper, I'm sure it's fine. What's the worst that could happen?”

“The end of the world,” he said gravely.

“Twice in one week? No way. Come on, bro-bro! It'll be great!”

He could already feel the first teeth marks forming on the pen. Maybe it would be great? He was kind of into time travel. How could he not be? But if their own family was involved...besides, he didn't know much about the man, but he didn't think a trip to see Stan and Ford's father sounded like fun. His eyes wandered back to the time machine.

“It's too risky, Mabel. How- how long have you even had that thing? Maybe the guy is already back!”

“I dunno, two hours maybe? He's probably still falling. Some of the stuff only comes back out like hours later. Or never!”

“Yes, or he could have just spent 21 story-filled minutes there and now he's already on the surface and looking for this thing!”

“So what? We can deal with that when he finds us! Dipper, it's just...before, I was so- so frustrated because I can't do anything because it already happened and I wasn't there to hug Stan and Ford and I probably still can't do that because of weird timeline mumbo-jumbo but I- I just need to do something!”

Dipper's mouth was starting to taste like ink. Man, he didn't want to tell her no when she was like this. “I don't know, Mabel. So much could go wrong and we've never even met the guy! We don't know what he's like.”

“But I do!” she burst out and along with the shout came the tears, rolling out of wide eyes and dripping onto her sheets. “I heard them talking earlier! Ford said that he- he said-” she let out a small, strangled sob and flopped face down onto her bed. “I wanna do something.” Her voice sounded so small.

In that moment, Dipper decided that maybe they wouldn't cause a paradox. Maybe the time traveler wouldn't catch them and maybe they wouldn't be thrown into time jail. Maybe everything would be fine. He didn't know what was going on, really, and he didn't know what Mabel had overheard. The only thing he knew was that Mabel was desperate. For whatever reason, she was dead set on this and heck, it was entirely possible that Mabel would just go on her own if Dipper refused and that would probably be the worst option of them all, anyway.

He tossed the pen aside and walked up to the bed. With Mabel sprawled out like that he needed to climb up on the mattress to get close enough to look down at her head again and when she turned around to see what he was doing, he flashed her a hopeful smile.

“You wanna go on an epic time travel adventure with me?”

Mabel gasped and almost hit her head on the sloping ceiling in her rush to hug her brother. He laughed awkwardly, trying his best not to lose his balance as the girl launched herself at him. They lingered in the hug for a little longer before dropping down to sit on Mabel's bed again. She lifted the time machine and began lightly tugging on the tape, not even enough to really pull it out.

“So, we just need to go back 200 years, tell him off, and then we go back?”

“I think it's more like 50 years.”

“Ugh, that's still forever! Maybe we'll see some more dinosaurs. Or a mammoth.”

“I don't think th-”

“Who cares! We have to go to like, nineteen-hundred-whatever, right?”

At Dipper's nod, Mabel slowly began pulling out more of the time tape, narrowing her eyes at it until her expression changed to one of relief.

“Hey, there aren't any dates on it, anyway! That means we don't even need math. I just have to choose 50 years and...” she scanned the part of the tape she had pulled out, trying to find the right amount of time, when Dipper placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Mabel, wait! We need to plan this first! How will we even get to New Jersey? There's no point to going back if we'll just end up stuck in Gravity Falls!”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess you're right.” Not even bothering to hide her disappointment, she slowly moved the tape back in, making sure not to let go until it was all the way back. Then she blew a raspberry as she tossed the machine onto her pillow. “So. How will we get there? The bus?”

“No, that'd take too long. And we don't have any money.”

“Grunkle Stan keeps his savings in the walls?” She lifted her head a little to get a better look at him but the expression on Dipper's face made her lower it again. “Nah, you're right, that was a bad idea.”

“The best thing for this situation would be some sort of magic device, something to teleport maybe, or-”

“Magic device! Dipper, that's it!” Mabel grabbed him by the shoulders shaking him excitedly before she leaped off the bed towards the far corner of the room. She picked something up from the floor and triumphantly presented it to him.

“Maybe the time traveler guy had something like that on his belt!”

Dipper gaped at the thing, taking in the select few pieces of tech still attached to it and his sister looking oddly proud at having “borrowed” it. For a few seconds he rung with himself, trying to resist but then he simply had to give in to his curiosity and take it. This was just too cool.

“I don't know if these are technically magic – or maybe they are? I still haven't figured out how exactly time travel works – but I bet there's something on here. Just maybe...” He took one of the little machines off the belt and gave it a quick once over before dropping it on the mattress.

“Blendin always managed to time travel exactly where he needed to so maybe they have something for that kinda stuff?” Mabel suggested. Dipper just nodded, too distracted by the weird gizmo he was currently holding in his hand to pay her any mind. It looked a bit like that watch thing that Blendin used to control his camouflage suit but not quite the same. Dipper would love to give it a try but pushing random buttons on things you don't understand never lead to anything good ever so he resisted.

Finally, he picked up something that looked promising. Yes, he decided, he was gonna try his luck with this one. Hopefully it wasn't going to blow them all to smithereens. It was a small device with three buttons and a display that flashed on when Dipper pressed the middle one. He was greeted by an overly elaborate looking “welcome” animation in some snazzy sci-fi future font before the screen changed to display the words “Temporal Relocator – press any button to continue”, followed by what he assumed to be the same thing in four more languages. Now that sounded pseudo-scientific enough to be exactly what he needed!

Pressing the button took him to some sort of map. With the screen being so tiny he couldn't make out very much of it, which wasn't helped by the fact that part of it was taken up by an “input location” prompt flashing through various languages. He groaned. Didn't they have holograms for stuff like this in the future? Great Uncle Ford had holograms for stuff like this now! Those future dudes should really get their act together. At least that's what he thought until he pressed the left button and a sudden light emitted from the thing, making him jump back with a regrettably adorable yelp. When he refocused on the machine he found himself looking at a fancy, if slightly glitchy, hologram, exactly the kind of style he had been hoping for. Now that was more like it. He also noticed a sort of mouth or voice symbol on the screen above the right button so he pressed it and, as expected, was prompted to verbally state the location he needed.

What was it again? “Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey.”

The Relocator pinged. A green light flashed once, then the hologram retracted and the instructions changed to “press middle button to confirm. Double press to cancel.”

“All right, I think we're all set,” Dipper said after pressing. Mabel, who had spent the time stuffing all the candy in the room into her nightgown (did that thing have pockets? Where was she even putting the sweets?), excitedly plopped down on the blanket next to him. Her hands immediately found the time machine.

“Okay, Mystery Twins Epic Time Travel Adventure of Family Love and Justice, here we go!” she yelled before letting the tape snap back in and grabbing Dipper's hand in her crushing grip. The last thing he managed to say in 2012 was “wait, Mabel, we still need-”

Then it stopped being 2012 and he stopped talking because he was too busy being sucked through time and space and spat out- here.

It was raining in Glass Shard Beach. It was a dark, dreary who-knew-what-weekday of the somethingth of whatever, nineteen-sixty-two and the first thing Dipper saw once his eyes had adjusted to the gloom was the beach. He hadn't been to one in a while and none he had visited had ever looked like this. It was all pale sand, now clumping together thanks to the rain, interspersed with grass and covered with seashells and kale and the glass shards that were the town's namesake. It was dirty and chaotic and unwelcoming but at the same time, it seemed to beckon him, urge him to explore. A few yards away a stormy ocean met the shore, vast and frightening and beautiful and enchanting and _endless_. He found himself staring at it, lost in some strange reverie until he was startled by a creaking sound coming from a nearby swing set. His eyes were immediately drawn there. Something about it struck him as almost eerie.

Dipper didn't have time (hah!) to take in anything else because he was already being pulled along by Mabel, away from the beach towards the buildings looming in the distance.

At one point they ran past a sign informing them that they were indeed in Glass Shard Beach and Dipper couldn't even believe this was actually happening. It was honestly pretty fun. Or, it would have been if the weather wasn't so terrible and he hadn't left his vest in the attic. With his t-shirt and shoes, he was doing much better than Mabel, though, who was dressed only in her purple nightgown and socks. Dipper quickly noticed how she was shivering but he didn't have anything to help.

At least it didn't take them too long to find Pines Pawns, what with the gigantic sign above the door, and soon they were standing outside the entrance, gathering themselves and their wits and preparing for something they couldn't possibly be prepared for. A million thoughts ran around Dipper's head. He wondered what Mabel had in mind, what was gonna happen now. He wondered if Stan and Ford would be there, how old they were now, what they were like, if they would meet them, if that would be a good thing.

Finally, Mabel shot Dipper a nervous smile and he returned it with a grim nod. They reached out and pushed the door.

 

Despite Mabel's earlier claims, she absolutely, completely did not have a plan. Or rather, what plan she did have really only went as far as traveling back in time and finding Filbrick Pines and it picked up at traveling forward in time again afterward, leaving the middle very much blank.

And the middle, she was starting to realize, was really important.

Since there wasn't much else she could do, Mabel decided to just wing it as she entered the shop. Her wet socks made a gross squelching sound and, ew, that was a terrible feeling but the wall of warm air that hit her the moment she opened the door made it all better. She hadn't even realized how cold it had been in the rain.

Mabel had never been in a pawn shop before and her first impression was that it was cluttered. There were glass cases full of jewelry and other smaller valuables, with boxes full of weird little doodads and whatsits stacked on top. A banjo was leaning against a wall and a saxophone was propped up against one of the jewelry cases, there was a dusty chandelier lying next to an antique lamp and an old TV (or perhaps by this time's standards it was modern?) and more boxes were stacked on the floor and shelves were overflowing with all manner of oddities and Mabel couldn't even begin to take it all in.  
Her second impression was that this place looked fun, this place being as cluttered as it was made it fun because lots of cluttered places were. And with all the weird and cool stuff littering it (was that a shrunken head?), this one seemed super, extra fun.

Her third and final impression was that it was too cluttered. Oppressively so. It slowly settled in as she kept staring at everything around her, nothing about this place felt like it had any heart in it. No soul or love, just old, smelly things in an old, smelly room, belonging to a man she couldn't- couldn't...

And then she saw him. It had to be him. Filbrick Pines was tall, even sitting down, with a strong build and he resembled Stan and Ford but only kind of. He wore a hat and sunglasses and a sort of ugly suit. He looked up when a bell sounded, announcing their arrival and proceeded to stare at them from his spot behind the counter for an uncomfortable amount of time before looking back down to his newspaper. Mabel had no idea what he thought about the two children that had suddenly shown up in his shop dripping water everywhere but she didn't really care. There was only one thing on her mind in that moment. One thought about the man in front of her, drawing all her attention to it like it was wearing a light-up sweater but one she hadn't wired properly, one that caught fire.

Filbrick Pines was terrifying.

He might not have been if she had met him any other day, in any other context. If she hadn't known just who he was. But as she took in this man she had never met before, never seen before, Ford's words earlier in the bathroom kept replaying themselves over and over in her head, eventually getting replaced by Stan's voice. Bad stuff, bad stuff, bad stuff, bad-

For a moment she could just look at him in fear.

Then she got angry because how DARE he.

She grabbed Dipper's hand again and dragged him with her towards the counter, acting much more confident than she felt as she yelled, “YOU!”

Filbrick didn't even flinch, he just folded his newspaper and looked at her with a sort of none-expression on his face. Or perhaps he looked a little annoyed, it was really hard to tell with those stupid sunglasses and Mabel didn't want to look too closely at him.

“Y-you! Filbrick Pines?” Now, that had become much less impressive immediately but she couldn't help the sudden flare of worry that she might have gotten the wrong guy after all. This whole situation was so confusing! But he just nodded, his raised eyebrow making him look like he had something to say but he kept quiet.

Well, good! Good, because Mabel had some things to tell this man!

“You!” In theory she did anyway. Urgh, she needed words, she needed ideas, anything to say, and she needed to stop angry crying, pronto. For a moment she just breathed, ignoring whatever Dipper was trying to say to her, ignoring Filbrick's face, just focusing. She felt her anger a bit better this way, stronger and clearer now that she was a bit more grounded, and it helped her understand it better, too. Something about it was awfully familiar. Mabel decided to let this familiarity carry her, let it shape itself into words and actions and guide her. It was the only way she knew to express what she so desperately needed to convey.

Still, she had to stay calm and try the rational approach. Just-

“You need to treat your sons better!” she said. She had to at least give it a shot, weak as the words sounded even to her own ears.

Filbrick Pines stood up from his chair. He was towering over the both of them and continued doing so even as he leaned forward over the desk, propping himself up with his hands.

“I don't know who you think you are, little girl, but you are talking about things that are none of your business,” he replied, calmly but with finality. Mabel hated his voice. Hated it.

He was saying something about their parents now, she heard that much, but she didn't want to listen to anything else that came out of his mouth. None of her business...? This was her family! They were his family. She knew how Stan talked about family. How Dipper did, and Ford did too even if it had been a bit of a bumpy ride with her fluffy grunkle. She definitely knew how she felt about family. But this man? She suddenly noticed that she was gnashing her teeth and had to put in a conscious effort to stop.

Maybe she could have argued. Maybe she would have been able to make a point here, something to make her great-grandfather think if she had given the rational approach another try. Maybe. Or maybe not. But she felt her anger welling up, so, so familiar and so strong and she didn't say anything particularly rational at all.

“You are a unicorn!” Mabel yelled.

Filbrick looked confused but not half as confused as Dipper, and another tear tried forcing itself past her eyelids.

“You say that people are bad and you make them feel all terrible and gross and worthless but you're the one who's the worst of all! You just lie and say awful things because you're selfish! Because it serves you and you don't care who you hurt at all!” The words were just flowing now, spilling out her mouth in an unstoppable torrent. She could barely even think about what she was saying, all that mattered was saying it. Just that.

“And they trust you but you don't deserve it! You don't deserve it at all!” She clenched her fists and looked him in the eyes – or she would have if it weren't for those sunglasses, and finally the last wave of righteous anger rolled through her, stronger than any other, taking her over completely.

Filbrick frowned in irritation and managed to say, “unicorn?”. Then Mabel's fist hit him square in the jaw.

It hurt, man, did it ever, she had no idea how to box and Filbrick's face wasn't as soft as Celestabelleabethabelle's had been, but it felt so incredibly satisfying. His head flew back from the force of it and when he righted himself again he went to clutch at his chin with a pained groaned, an expression of pure, unadulterated fury on his face.

Mabel didn't get to enjoy the moment any further as she heard Dipper yell “Gravity Falls!”, followed by a ping and a green flash and a beep and a whirring sound and suddenly his hand was on her arm and there was a blast of light and they were in front of the mall.

“Wh-what the-” Her brain weakly supplied that they had traveled back to their own time but the whole thing had happened so fast, she couldn't even wrap her head around it. She finally regained a bit of clarity when she heard Dipper wheezing next to her.

“Hey, why'd you send us back already?”

“Because,” he rasped, followed by another wheeze, “you just punched” – wheeze – “our great-grandpa” – wheeze – “right in the face. Haahhh.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So-” he coughed, then simply sat down on the curb, groaning as he closed his eyes, “so he was, like, really, _really_ angry at us. I mean, did you see the guy's face? And how huge he was? I wasn't gonna take my chances with him. Urgh.”

Mabel sat down next to him. It was disappointing but he was probably right. At least she had made some precious new memories. Her wrist and fist also really smarted. Perhaps she should take a picture of her bruised knuckles for her scrapbook later.

Oh, but first-

“We should probably go home.”

Dipper looked around at their surroundings and inhaled sharply.

“Oh man, I was really rushing just now, I hope I sent us back to the right time.”

“At least we're in Gravity Falls! And there's still signs of Weirdmageddon, see?” She pointed at some graffiti of Bill on a nearby wall that had been half covered with fresh paint. “So it can't be that far off. Let's just head back to the Shack! I bet Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford will get super worried if they come to check on us and we aren't there.”

Dipper nodded and so the two of them got up from the ground and started the long track back to the Mystery Shack. It was completely dark save for the stray street light and when the moon would occasionally show through the clouds that still hung in the sky. There were puddles on the ground from the rain earlier and it was pleasantly warm, the humidity thankfully being counteracted by the cool night air. Still, Mabel couldn't stop a slight shiver in her thin, wet clothes.

The walk through the woods in the middle of the night would probably have been pretty scary but after everything they had experienced today and this past week, it was almost calming. Dipper turned to grin at her at one point.

“I can't believe you did that!”

“Yeah, me too!” Mabel laughed.

“Wait, wasn't that your plan?”

“Uh-uh. I didn't really have a plan, I guess I just improvised?”

Dipper snorted at that. “I still don't really get what's going on but that was a pretty impressive punch!” For emphasis, he punched into his own hand at these words. Mabel smiled along with it for a moment but eventually, the happy expression was replaced with a frown.

“I feel kinda bad about it, though. Violence isn't the answer.”

“Eh, it can be.”

Mabel shoved him playfully, only to almost topple over when he shoved back.

“I'm so hungry! I think I only ate popcorn for dinner,” Dipper suddenly said.

Smiling once again, Mabel reached into her sleeve and pulled out one of the candies she'd shoved in there earlier. “Da-da-da-daaaa! It sure is a good thing you have me, bro-bro,” she declared before taking another piece of candy for herself. Oooh, chocolate.

Dipper gratefully accepted the treat only to make a sound of disgust a second later.

“Salt water taffy?! Yuck, that's loser candy!”

Mabel almost cracked up right then and she tried really hard not to giggle but when Dipper noticed her reaction and burst out laughing she couldn't hold back any longer. Eventually, the twins had to stop walking entirely just to compose themselves because suddenly the concept of loser candy seemed like the funniest thing in the whole world.

It took them about half an hour to reach the Mystery Shack. The sight of the banged up, darkened building in the middle of the night was strangely unsettling. It looked deserted and while Mabel knew for a fact that it wasn't, it made her feel a bit queasy nonetheless. She just hoped their grunkles hadn't gone to bed yet. At least one of them had to still be awake and ready to let them into the house, right?

Dipper knocked on the door. When a minute passed without anything happened he knocked again. This time they heard shuffling, then the door was torn open by two very tired looking old men. The annoyance on their faces quickly shifted into incredulity as they took in their late-night “visitors”.

“What the-?! Kids?!” Stan yelled. Dipper and Ford winced at the volume and boy, it sure was a good thing the Shack didn't have any neighbors.

“What are you doing out this late?” Ford added, looking first at Mabel, then at Dipper with that authority figure I'm-angry-because-I'm-worried expression. Mabel shrugged.

“You know. Stuff.”

“At 3 AM?”

“3 AM?” There was no way that was right. Their adventure in Glass Shard Beach hadn't taken that long. It should have been 1 AM at the latest. She glanced at Dipper and could tell he was wondering the same thing.

“I must have sent us too far,” he said. Well, if it was only two hours that wasn't so bad. Mabel squeezed his shoulder in an awkward gesture of encouragement and fortunately, he seemed to dismiss the matter. Their great uncles, naturally, did not.

“What do you mean, 'too far'? And where were you two? I didn't even notice you sneaking out!” Stan rubbed the back of his head, apparently torn between looking stern and looking concerned. He was staring at Mabel as he spoke but she hadn't made up her mind yet regarding whether or not she should tell him, so she just grinned.

“Places!”

The younger twins walked past the two men into the house, finding their way into the living room where Dipper plopped down on the armchair and Mabel took a seat on the dinosaur skull. It didn't take long for Stan and Ford to follow.

“What's that supposed to mean? Where could you possibly have to go in the middle of the night?”

Stan didn't even get an answer this time with Mabel starting to feel pretty tired and Dipper wrapping himself back up in the blanket he had used earlier. He seemed confused by something for a second, then he grimaced as he pulled out the teleportation thingy.

“We need to bring this stuff back to the Bottomless Pit,” he said.

“Later,” Mabel mumbled. She was too cozy for the Bottomless Pit right now.

“You need to throw something into the Bottomless Pit? What stuff?”

“No, no, I wouldn't throw it in. We should just return it,” Dipper clarified in a way that clarified nothing whatsoever for their grunkles. “But I guess I can do that after I sleep a little.”

Mabel just nodded lazily.

“Kids? Will you please tell us what-”

Mabel groaned loudly. She turned her attention to Stan, opening her arms wide. “Questions later. Cuddling now!”

Because she needed it and, as she was quite certain, so did Stan.

He couldn't help smiling a little at that. With a sigh of defeat, he walked to the chair to sit down next to Dipper who let out a little squawk at suddenly being squished between Stan and the armrest.

“Y'know, if you wanted to cuddle, you could have just said something. You didn't need to go running around outside in the middle of the night. C'mere!”

Mabel happily complied, sliding off the skull into his lap and letting him wrap his arms around her.

“Augh, what happened? Why are your clothes so wet?” Once again, Mabel just answered with a shrug. 

“Blanket!” she demanded. Dipper fumbled with the thing for a bit before finally managing to spread it over all three of them. As she moved her hand to adjust it a little a sharp pain went through her knuckles. She looked at them unhappily but then a sudden thought occurred to her.

“Grunkle Stan, can you teach me how to box?”

Dipper started laughing again and Stan looked at him confusedly but then he had to snort, too.

“Sure, sweetie,” he said indulgently.

She grinned. Perhaps he only meant that as a joke but she'd take him up on this, no way she wouldn't. Magical meanies of the world, beware Mabel Pines. She will befriend you but if you mess with her family she will strike with a vengeance!

“You're gonna have to tell us what you were up to later,” Ford said, taking Mabel's previous spot on the T. Rex skull.

“Hmm, maybe we will,” Mabel muttered sleepily, just happy about being so toasty and comfortable. “But now it's family cuddle time!”

Dipper nodded mutely. He leaned against Stan and they managed to somehow spread the blanket over Ford, too and the grown-ups talked quietly for a bit and then they all fell asleep and woke up in the same place again hours later with a pig curled up on Dipper's legs and with aching backs and aching knuckles.

**Author's Note:**

> Little story tidbit that I didn't manage to work in: Ford was all covered in mud because they had all needed a small break from scrapbook/home movie therapy and he used the time to go look for buried treasure in the woods. He needs money for a certain future investment and that seemed to be the most obvious way to get some. Because, you know. Of course. Then he got surprised by the rain and headed home.


End file.
